


so hold me in your arms

by TroubledPro



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Nauseatingly fluffy, post-christmas christmas feels?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:57:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TroubledPro/pseuds/TroubledPro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas. It's snowing. Harry and Louis own a bakery. It's all pretty perfect, to be honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so hold me in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> So uhm hi? I wrote this a while ago (before Christmas, evidently) and posted it on my tumblr (troubledpro) but it's my most recent work to date so I thought it should be the first thing I post on here. It might be a little out of date, seeing as Christmas is over and done with, but it's suffocatingly fluffy and that's all that matters really. I'm not sure about how to work this website just yet (posting wise) so I apologise if it isn't the most clear or anything, hopefully I'll get the hang of it. Thank you for reading, if you do, and I hope that you like it! xx

Flurries of snow swirled through the air. They danced with the wind, a waltz between elements. Puffs of white sat comfortably on Harry's thick clothing, soaking into the coarse material of his coat and seeping into the fluffy material of his scarf. He hissed as a cold dot pricked his neck, a shot of winter being injected into his bloodstream. He could feel the chill behind his eyes and the ice under his nails. White fluttered in front of his green eyes, marring the calm scene that encompassed him.

Underneath his feet, a crunching noise gave way. It was the sound of Christmas, the sound of winter warmth. A sense of satisfaction threaded itself in between the bitter chill in his veins. It was such a rounded noise, a one which let a hidden smile try and push its way onto his lips because of its glory. Honestly, Harry could step on snow for the rest of his life and never get bored of the sound. It was something which, for some reason, got his heart in a flutter and his chest in a tightening hold. It was probably the anticipation of the twenty fifth, but Harry liked to think of it as something more meaningful than a date.

Harry could see the glowing bakery in sight. Its windows were dressed in festive decorations, too many, actually, but Louis had insisted. And what Louis wants, Louis gets - in Harry's view, anyway. Red tinsel was tacked along the edges, shiny metallic paper squished against the glass. Fake snow was sprayed onto the window to mist it up, to hide some of the outside world away from the cosy shop inside. A small Christmas tree, an overly decorated tree, was standing proud at the front of the window. No coordinated colours were applied to the green mound, just many splashes of random colour hanging from each branch. Baubles winked when the winter sun glanced towards them, showing off their shiny exterior. Louis had even gone to the extent of sticking small reindeer stickers around the advertisement posters that were clinging desperately to the glass, making them sit on the paper and grin to the outside world. It was somewhat gaudy and a little bit tacky, but it shone Christmas spirit and what more could Harry ask for?

Suddenly, Harry felt his toes squish to the front of his heavy boots and the soles of said restraining shoes lose grip on the ground. In one fell swoop, Harry's bottom had been plonked onto the freezing cold floor. An aching eruption spread from the victim area up to his lower back, the cold not being able to numb the shock. A flush of a blush joined the pinkness of his cheeks as embarrassment curdled in his stomach. Harry glanced around and tried to peek through the ever thickening snow to spot if he had an audience, but thankfully the street was bare other than two dithering grannies by the post office.

Remembering that he had had a heavy plastic bag in his hand before he fell, Harry's eyes quickly shot around to search for his purchases. One by one, each came into sight from their places scattered over the whitened pavement. Harry sighed, a flood of cloudy air parting from his lips and joining the party of snow eagerly. He hobbled up from the ground, a hand rubbing the victim area to soothe it a little, and then started collecting each item. As he picked up the jar of mincemeat, Harry groaned in annoyance. A crack had broken through the glass and sticky brown mincemeat was splurging through. It glued onto Harry's skin as he swivelled the jar in his hands to try and find any other damages, only adding to the grossness of the dirt and snow that graced his skin. It did not help that Louis had stolen - okay, you're right, it was not exactly like that. Harry offered the gloves to his partner on their way to the bakery when he noticed the redness of his skin and the constant rubbing together motion that Louis kept doing. He was only being courteous, well, he was actually only being self indulgent because he loved seeing Louis wrapped up so adorably, but that was not the point. - his gloves from Harry that morning and conveniently forgotten to give them back before Harry left to collect the needed ingredients.

The soft snow started to float from the sky even more so than before. It started to seep so far into Harry's clothes that it dipped to his skin, the bitterness pinching him. With a bid to hurry up, Harry stuffed everything into the soggy plastic bag and hurriedly, yet cautiously, made his way to the bakery. As he neared the petite shop, Harry could smell the fresh bread and sweet treats. The scent warmed from the inside out. It was a comforting aroma which made him feel at home, feel loved and taken care of. It smelled of Louis.

Pushing open the door, a wall of warmth hit Harry straight on. He stepped through it and closed the door promptly, basking in the skin tingling difference in temperature. The weather outside was locked away, just silent flutters of snow behind the glass. Faint Christmas songs were playing through the shop from the radio behind the counter, the sound of pots and pans clanging in the back room drowning out some of the words. Harry pulled off his soaked beanie, grimacing at the coldness of it, and shook his head of hair. Splatters of ice and snow flew onto the pristine wooden floor as he moved, making Harry feel somewhat bad when it dampened the freshly cleaned floor. Those thoughts were soon abolished when he heard a sweet voice chiming along with the Christmas songs from the back room. He stomped the excess snow off his feet and untied his boots. Noticing that the bakery was empty of customers, Harry left his shoes by the door and slid his way through the shop.

Louis, the little doll that he was, was dressed head to toe in Christmas clothing. He had on the cosiest, woolliest, Christmassiest jumper that he could find. It was too big for his slim frame - probably because it was actually Harry's but had been claimed Louis' from the boys' first Christmas together three years ago - and hung rather lifelessly from his bones. Louis made up for that though by looking utterly adorable with the sleeves that were eventually folded up after dangling all day long, and the saggy length of the jumper hanging low by his bottom. Harry found it hard to keep his arms from winding around the smaller frame constantly. Whenever he wore such a comfy jumper, Harry just wanted to bundle him up and smother him in love. Louis never objected.

Harry slid quietly behind his boyfriend, seeing him rolling out a sheet of creamy pastry. His head was bopping from side to side and his bum was wiggling around. Harry suppressed a blissful giggle and slipped his arms around Louis' waist. Louis jumped a little but relaxed as Harry's curls brushed his cheek. He went to lean back to press their cheeks together, but the coldness radiating from his boyfriend made him recoil quickly.

"You're freezing," Louis pouted, swivelling around so that he was facing Harry.

"Well I have just been outside in the snow..."

"It's snowing?!" Louis exclaimed, blue eyes widening in excitement.

"I thought you...-" Harry trailed off as Louis bounded from his arms and onto the shop floor. A gasp pulled from his lips as he noticed the real snow that was falling outside of the window. He scampered forward to reach the window, mouth hanging agape. Harry watched as his eyes flittered around his surroundings, cheeks pinked and lips apple red. Harry thought that his heart might have just exploded for Louis pressed his face against the glass and let out a low trill of noise. He was entirely enamoured with it. His hands were pressed against the cold glass as if trying to reach out to the snowflakes. His blue eyes were dancing with the reflection, but his admiration was obvious through such an image. They sparkled with sapphire flakes, gorgeous cerulean eyes which held everything that Harry had, everything that Harry loved.

"Harry..." Louis breathed out, mist fogging up the glass. His voice was doused in bliss and adoration, in total awe of the weather. Harry's lips curled into a loving smile as he leaned against the glass himself, his eyes on a different sight that he deemed beautiful to what Louis did. Louis' eyes glanced towards his boyfriend to try and explain to him how excited he was, but Harry could tell just from the boys' voice that he was completely delighted. It was _adorable._

"Can we go out in it?" Louis asked excitedly. Harry's joyous face started to turn a tad sour, apologetically so but still leaking into a rejection. "Please, Harry, please please please!" He continued to whine, jumping closer to Harry and showing off his best puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry, Lou, we've got to finish baking the last of the stock for tomorrow," Harry said ruefully, swiping his cold hand through Louis' fringe to push it off his forehead.

"But..." Louis murmured, the corners of his mouth turning downwards into _that_ expression. The one which pulled at Harry's hearts as if it were a harp, the tune not light but instead a dull thrumming. He looked like a lost puppy. With his small lips and large eyes, Harry wanted to smush his face together in a mess of cuteness instead of upset.

"C'mon, chicken, don't be like that," Harry said. Louis shivered as Harry cupped Louis' cheek and started to smooth his thumb over the soft skin. His fingers curled to the back of Louis' neck, prodding at the sensitive skin where Louis' loved to be touched. His eyes fluttered shut, the snowflakes sinking upwards to the surface and Harry's love drowning him.

"I wanna play in the snow," Louis drawled, fluttering his eyelashes at his boyfriend.

"Later, alright?" Harry offered, pressing his forehead on Louis'.

Louis looked calculatingly at Harry, checking for any dishonesty laced through his features. Unsurprisingly, he found none. He let out a sigh, breath fanning over Harry's lips and livening them into a sweet smile. Harry pressed his lips onto Louis' sweetly. They were warm and soft, the opposite to Harry's cold and chapped pinks. Both of his lips closed over Louis' top lip, he sucked lightly to darken its shade. His tongue peeked through and pushed Louis' mouth open, licking the seal that held them together. His boyfriend obliged, opening his mouth and letting them slide together effortlessly. Harry licked the inside of his mouth, smirking as he tasted the sweet tinge of the glacé cherries that Harry purposely told Louis _not_ to eat.

Leisurely, the kiss faded out and the two parted with reddened lips to match the Christmas decorations. As cliché as it looked and horribly romantic, the two looked each other in the eyes and smiled blissfully. Warmth pooled in Louis' cheeks as he glanced outside at the falling snow and then back at Harry's ever-pinking cheeks.

Once the moment had been broken by a snowball smashing off the window and a group of lads skidding by, the two got back to work. It was only the two of them who baked and ran the shop, a proper couples business. One would think that the pair of them would bicker and argue when running a business together, but instead of weakening their relationship, it strengthened it. They were hardly ever apart, which was just what they wanted. They worked in tune with each other, Harry being the baker the most and Louis being the front man when Harry did not need help. It not being the most successful of businesses helped the stress that should have been forced upon them, but they got just enough customers for them to have a, to try and spruce it up a little, cosy and petite flat and lifestyle.

Louis pressed the metal cutter into the soft pastry while Harry greased the tins. Half way through, Louis cranked the music louder and the two danced around the kitchen. Greasy fingers danced on hips and floured hands pressed against cheeks of the lower kind. Kisses were pressed and necks were licked. The two almost forgot about the job at hand, but when a dusting of flour caught Harry's throat and spurred on an unattractive coughing fit, they decided that they best leave the frolicking until later.

Harry pressed the carefully cut rounds into the tin, his long thin fingers being able to prod the pastry in perfectly. While Harry completed the tedious task, Louis should have been preparing the mince meat. Unfortunately, having short attention span paired with his boyfriend standing next to him, that thought was pushed behind the 'let's adore at Harry for a while' thought that appeared more and more frequently.

Harry's nose was rosy at the tip to match his pinked cheeks. They made his face glow with a lovely brightness. Whenever Harry's cheeks flared with red or his nose turned an admirable shade of pink, Louis found it hard to resist kissing all over them. They looked so adorable on his cherub-like face. They brought out his youth and greatened his cheekiness to an unbearable amount. The colour framed his gorgeous smile and brought out the redness of his lips, the kissableness of his lips.

Because Harry's lips were incredible, to Louis. They were soft but forceful at the same time. They were smooth but chapped, only sometimes. They were always a darker shade than necessary, a more tempting shade that caused Louis' heart to race. They could pull into the beautiful of smiles and blind everyone with their creation. They outlined the gleaming teeth which Louis loved to see shown, the honest and joyous smile. They could form a pout of discontent. It would beg to be met with Louis', and hardly ever resisted. They could just be sitting still, and Louis would still be fascinated with them. The way that Harry's cupids bow was so defined that Louis could trace it with the tip of his tongue. The way that the small lines that were painted on delicately could be smoothed away with his thumb. The way that his bottom lip was so full, so desperate to be bitten and pulled out for an enticing groan. And that was not to mention to things that Harry could do with those lips-

His eyes. So green and glossy. Maybe Louis just knew Harry too well, but they held all of his secrets regardless of how he protested that they did so. They brightened and dulled at the drop of a hat. Louis revelled in the gleaming green, doused himself in it so much that he could taste the bliss on his tongue. Sometimes he could not place his finger on the defined shade of green that they were. They were too beautiful to be emerald, but nobody had ever thought that anything could be that stunning to define it. Louis just stuck with calling the colour 'Harry's green', after all, he doubted that anything could match up to it. They were sparkling, at that present moment. Green lighting up with Christmas cheer. Green lighting up with Louis' love.

His eyelashes and skin, they intrigued Louis. Somehow, his eyelashes were the cause of many heated kisses, and Louis was never too sure why. They were long and dark, but not as thick as Louis'. They fanned out delicately and intensified the colour of his eyes, a heart racing moment. They fluttered quickly like fairies dancing in the centre of a flower, softly. On his cheek they brushed themselves tenderly. They tickled but not teasingly. They did it with care, with a certain gentleness that dusted affection over his skin. His skin, Harry's, caused a battle between his heart and his head. It was so soft, so smooth and endless, that Louis had to stop himself from splaying his hands over it on many an occasion. It felt supple when his fingertips wound around the roughness on Harry's elbow, but even then it was still a certain notch of silk. It may have eruptions of pimples or spots, but the perfection that it displayed cancelled out any blemishes. In fact, the feel of it and impossible shade only supported them. They showed that the imperfections could be made beautiful, just because it was Harry.

Louis was in awe of Harry, and he was pretty sure that he always would be.

"I'm so in love with you."

The words slipped out before they even floated by Louis' conscience. They tumbled from his sugary lips in a bundle of pink. They were wrapped in red ribbon, cliché it was but meaningful nonetheless. They were soft and diffused around the edges. They tasted of sugar, mainly, sweetness trickling into Harry's heart slowly and filling it with the content of its words. There was a hint of soft vanilla behind the instant sugariness, the padding to make sure that they filtered straight to their port of call. A sprinkle of cinnamon livened them up, brought a bounce in their movement. They were the sweetest words that Harry had ever, and would ever, taste.

Harry's eyes were not widened with surprise or plainly displayed; they were something in between. The green was brightened, just like Louis had thought about before, but veiled with something else. If Louis had squinted, he could have seen the sheen of love that curtained the green, but instead he chose to look at the curling lips. They twisted into a blissful smile. The rosy lips parted for the unveiling of those white teeth in a sincere smile. A dimple settled itself in Harry's cheek as it filled with warmth. A paled pink crept over the already warmed skin as the finishing touch, but not in embarrassment. It was a dusting of love-warmth. That heat which was only spurred on by the words which struck true to the heart. The words which held more meaning than any other in the world. The words which were honest. The words which were straight from the heart to be sent directly to the other's heart. The words which could tell more of a story than any fairytale could. The words which made both feel at home, secure and comforted. The words of being in love.

"I'm so in love with you, too," was all that was replied through the tender lips. A rush of something surged through Louis' veins and curled around his bones comfortably. Louis suspected that it was admiration, adoration and awe all intertwined into one.

No grand gesture was made, it was not needed. The words were enough, by far. The couple continued baking as if nothing had been said, but on the inside the two's emotions were running around with a new found confidence. They acted like they did when the situation was getting heated, but instead of being infused with lust, they were enthused with love. Each had their own importance, but maybe love had a little more power than the former, simply because it was the foundation of _them_.

Once the homemade goods were slipped into the oven and the timer had been set, the pair started making the dreaded gingerbread men. The biscuits always tasted fairly good, but the look of them could be improved. Neither had the most delicate of hands when it came to decorating and it was always the chore which was given when one of them did something 'bad'. Somehow, the job had not been given to either of them so reluctantly they completed it together, the thought of the words just said being prominent in their minds. It made the hours pass and the worst of the snow fall without them being drowned in it so neither were complaining, well, not too much anyway. Louis was a little whiney at not being _in_ the falling snowflakes, but a kiss from Harry soon distracted him from the matter.

Eventually, the excited squeal from Louis' lips could be set free into the floury air as the last batch of gingerbread men were decorated and placed into the fridge. Harry did not think that he had seen his boyfriend ever move so fast, well, other than when Harry promised him bubble bath sex to stop him moaning about wanting to go back to Leeds, that was. He had grabbed his coat and boots and flung them on his body, along with his hat and scarf and Harry's gloves. He was standing by the door and bouncing on the balls of his feet by the time Harry had closed everything up, clothes messy on his body. Sighing, Harry bent down and tied Louis' boots properly rather than half tight. He straightened out Louis' coat and buttoned it up to the top, patting his chest once he was done and looking lovingly at the wrapped up boy.

The minute that they had stepped outside, Louis had abandoned Harry to run into the crunchy snow and kick it around. Harry smiled happily as he locked up the bakery, sneaking glances at Louis' excited actions and chuckling under his breath. The boy looked utterly ecstatic. He was in his element by being surrounded by such a versatile thing. The snow could be kicked, stomped, thrown and touched. And Louis definitely had the energy to do all four. Harry just watched on as Louis entertained himself for a while by laughing joyfully as he spun in the white snow. It was just as entertaining for Harry to watch, especially when Louis looked so cute doing it.

When the winter air started to nip a little too hard at Harry's skin, he shuffled over to Louis and attempted to pull him out of his snowy daze. The boy was crumbling the cold substance through his fingers, no doubt numbing his hands in the process which would only lead to Harry having to blow warm air onto them for the whole journey home.

"C'mon, Lou, it's time to go," Harry said carefully, nudging his boyfriend.

"But I don't want to," Louis muttered, his gaze not tearing from the sparkling snow.

"But we have to, chicken, we've got to get back or else we'll freeze to death."

"But- but _snow,_ Harry, _snow!"_ Louis exclaimed, finally looking towards Harry through his big blue eyes.

"I know, I know, but it'll still be here tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is too far away," Louis pouted.

"Well- well, maybe we could go to the park later, or something, but honestly I think my balls are going to freeze if I don't get home soon," Harry winced.

"Well you shouldn't wear such tight pants then," Louis retorted, sticking his tongue out but retracting it quickly when the cold wind whipped around it.

"Hey! You never complain about them normally! You always compliment me on them, actually..."

"Well, yeah, but, like, _snow,_ Harry, _snow._ "

Harry rolled his eyes, "I know, you've already said that." He wrapped his hand around Louis' arm and tugged him forward, dragging him away from the patch of snow that had been his playground for a while. Louis tried to protest but soon settled down when Harry assured him that they would go out later, even though he knew that Louis would be reluctant to leave the warmth of the house when tiredness set in.

They walked home in the bitter wind, it taking double the time than their way there because of the slippery slush that lined some of the roads. Their hands were locked tightly together, the soggy glove that lined Louis' hands melding with Harry's. Sparks of ice shot through the heat capsule that had formed between their linked hands, but Harry kept a tight hold. Louis almost fell at one point, prompting Harry to grab onto his boyfriend before he hit the ground. That ensued a 'my hero' to fall dramatically from Louis' lips and an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes. The cold had not changed his enthusiasm, that was for sure. Rosy cheeks and joyous personality galore, Louis was definitely in his element.

After dragging a whining Louis out of the snow, the two entered the warm coven of their flat. Thankfully, Harry had left the heating on beforehand, something he knew that Louis would forget about in his Christmas haze. They changed into their matching flannel pyjamas, dark blue and green tartan, before snuggling up on the sofa. Harry looked incredibly soft in his pyjamas, Louis hugged him for longer than probably necessary. He was not going to apologise, though, because Harry seemed to be thinking the same or a similar thing about Louis from the way his hands cupped his cotton clad bottom as they cuddled. A thick blanket wrapped around their bodies as they slotted together on the sofa, Louis' head on Harry's chest. Fingers threaded through his thin hair, twisting the gingerbread strands and scratching stars into his scalp.

It was all so peaceful. Calm and serene. A Christmas movie was rolling on the television screen that neither were paying attention to. The tree was lit up in the corner of the room, dots of yellow white pricking the green foliage and hiding in between the randomly coloured decorations. The light was dim in the room with only the corner light on, a cosiness engulfing the couple. They both smelled of sugar and cinnamon and ginger, too. Dustings of flour, or was it snow, lay on secret skin. The air was speckled with emotions as they breathed out.

Louis' head raised up languidly, almost as if it held the weight of the world inside it. Tired blue eyes looked up at Harry and pink lips pulled into a sincere smile. Limp strands of brown hair fell over Louis' forehead, tips lying over his eyes and making him blink rapidly. Harry's hand was still resting on the silky head of hair in front of him, his thumb rubbing soothing circles still.

Slowly, the seal that glued Louis' lips together eased away and Louis spoke with a rasped voice, "I don't think I can be arsed to go back out in the snow." His eyelids were drooping tiredly. Harry smiled understandingly.

"We can go out tomorrow, if you like,"  Harry offered, smoothing his hand from Louis' hair to his cheek. Heat radiated from the soft skin to his calloused fingertips, Louis leaned into the touch.

"Maybe," Louis spoke through a yawn and closing his eyes softly, "We'll see."

Harry hummed in response and guided Louis' head back to his chest. Louis readjusted himself so that he and Harry were chest to chest, lying down. His elbows were probably digging into Harry's stomach from their bunched up position sandwiched in between their bodies, but Harry was not complaining and Louis was too tired to move. From his waist down, he was slotted in the gap between Harry's legs as he lay, causing the taller boy to tangle his own ankles together to pull them even closer.

A kiss was pressed on the crown of Louis' head before long arms wrapped around his body securely. Outside, snowflakes were still floating from the sky. Louis let himself fall into dreamland while Harry, well, Harry just lay there loving.


End file.
